Here are the lyrics of Pease Brose as sung by Enoch Kent:

Pease Brose again, Mither, Pease Brose again,
Ye feed me like a blackbird. An ah'm yer only wean.
Ither laddies in the street, they talk o' tatties mashed wi' meat,
Some o' them ha'e chappit neeps, but wi' you it's no' the same.

Pease Brose again, Mither, Pease Brose again,
Yer faither isnae workin, cannae bring the money hame.
On the Mersey an' the Clyde, whaur workin' men o' skill ha'e pride,
Poverty's gey hard tae bide, unemployment is a shame.

Peyed aff again, mither, peyed aff again,
My faither's aye been keen on graft, sae tell me whit's tae blame.
When ither nations ha'e the need, o' tugs an tankers, ships o' speed,
Ma faither's no' a man o' greed but worthy o' his claim.

Pase Brose again, son, Pease Brose again,
The cause o' aa the trouble is very hard tae name.
But aa that European talk, whit wis the use tae Scouse or Jock,
When they walk the streets in search o' work,
An' fruitless they come hame.

It'll be Pease Brose again.